


You Are so Much Better Than I Ever Knew Before

by lavenderlotion



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Barebacking, Casual Sex, Clubbing, College Student Peter Hale, Come Marking, Consensual Underage Sex, Daddy Kink, Dancing, Derek Hale Being an Asshole, Evil Kate Argent, Flirting, Fluff, Good Peter Hale, Good Uncle Peter Hale, Grinding, High School Student Derek Hale, High School Student Kate Argent, High School Student Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Manhandling, Protective Cora Hale, Scenting, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Has a Crush on Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski Needs a Hug, Translation Available, Young Cora Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 17:17:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17832803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: “Oh sweetheart,” Kate cooed, voice sickly sweet and obviously fake. “You didn’t think you were dating...did you?”Stiles just stood there, still in shock and only coherent enough to shrug his shoulders. “Oh sweetie, that is just too cute. No, Der-Bear here just needed something to keep his cock warm while I was away visiting family.”





	You Are so Much Better Than I Ever Knew Before

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [你胜过我所遇见的一切](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18342767) by [tanyvS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanyvS/pseuds/tanyvS)



> Written in August of 2017. Found in my WIP folder, cleaned up & posted. Will be backdated in a few weeks. August 17
> 
> Please note, I'm not continuing this.

Stiles was happy. He was delighted, ecstatic, elated, joyful, jubilant and overjoyed. He was on top of the fucking world and  _ nothing _ could tear him down. He hadn’t felt this good in  _ years _ , not since before his mother got sick and his spark decided to make itself known.

You see, Stiles Stilinski was a man loving, gay sex having  _ king _ . He felt invincible, felt as though he could take on the world. Really, it had only been a little over four weeks since he, awkward, ADHD ridden, ‘spazzy’ nerd began hooking up with the glorious Derek Hale.  _ Yes _ , that Derek Hale. Senior, Captain of both the Lacrosse  _ and _ Basketball teams. Leather jacket wearing, stubble sprouting  _ sex god _ . And sex god he was, Stiles could now confirm it. 

Honestly, he wasn’t sure how he got so lucky. He was a Junior, although nearly eighteen since he missed a year after his mother died, but he was no one. He wasn’t popular, hell, he barely had any friends other than Scott. Sure, he had ‘friends’, other people who didn’t have anyone else to sit with during lunch. But they weren’t really friends. He didn’t talk to them outside of their lunch table. So, when Derek Hale cornered him in an empty locker room and proceeded to suck his soul out through his tongue Stiles was not going to say no.

The following weeks had been amazing. Sure, Derek didn’t really talk to him at school, or sit with him at lunch or even really smile at him, but Stiles was fine with it! He was sure Derek would be comfortable soon enough, and besides, he wasn’t going to pressure someone to come out of the closet. Stiles knew first hand what it was like to have a negative experience. 

So instead, he texted Derek the nights that his dad worked the night shift and let the man in the back door. The following sex was  _ amazing _ , and so what if the man never stayed over later, or really talked later. 

It was fine. 

Stiles was on top of the world. Hell, he was getting his ass worked over on the  _ regular _ , how could he not be happy? And besides, he was more than confident that Derek was just bad at talking about his feelings. He had actually stayed the whole night this weekend, and when Stiles woke up Sunday morning they went at it  _ again _ . Morning sex was awesome, if anyone were to ask Stiles. 

So he was fucking elated as he walked down the halls of Beacon Hills High. It was a Friday and his dad was working, and he had already texted Derek that morning. It didn’t even bother him that he didn’t get a response, he was too excited to care. Or, well, he  _ had been  _ excited. 

He stumbled over his own feet, skidding to a halt as he watched Kate Argent lean into Derek’s space, a hand on his chest as she slotted their mouths together in a kiss much too lewd for a school hallway. Stiles watched in a disconnected sort of fascination as one of his hands fitted over her waist, moving under her skirt and grabbing her ass. Stiles could almost feel it himself, the warmth of that hand on  _ his _ ass, the familiar squeeze to bring them closer together, to slot their cocks more closely against the other. 

But now that hand wasn't on him. Instead, it was on Kate Argent—as cliche as it fucking was—who was the Captain of the ‘Prep Squad’, the closest thing BCH had to a Cheerleading Squad. Stiles was close enough to hear the little grunt of pleasure Derek made, knew how the same noise felt being made against his lips, knew what it was like. And he continued to watch, standing there with his school bag over his shoulders, arms hanging loosely at his side as he stared. 

He continued to watch as Kate pulled back, as she turned her head and looked straight at Stiles with a grin pulling at her lips.

He caught Derek’s eye next, watching as they blinked opened, dark with arousal. It was so familiar, something Stiles had seen countless times (his dad worked  _ a lot _ of night shifts over the course of a month). Stiles was barely able to talk, and he stood there for at least thirty seconds just blinking owlishly before he was able to mutter out a weak  _ “Derek?” _ . Because he had never said anything about Kate, had never told him he was seeing someone. Or maybe this was new? Hell, they had been fucking only two nights ago. Or maybe  _ Kate _ didn’t know? 

“Oh sweetheart,” Kate cooed, voice sickly sweet and obviously fake. “You didn’t think you were  _ dating _ ...did you?” 

Stiles just stood there, still in shock and only coherent enough to shrug his shoulders, a small, weak movement. He was absently aware of the crowds forming around them, saw how Kate’s faux concerned shifted into a cruel grin, and watched as she plastered herself more firmly to Derek’s body. “Oh sweetie, that is just  _ too _ cute. No, Der-Bear here just needed some _ thing _ to keep his cock warm while I was away visiting family.” 

She said it with a laugh, all but glowing under the attention the crowd of students were giving her. Stiles was still far too much in shock, could only shake his head in useless denial.  _ Stupid _ , he told himself,  _ fucking idiot. _ “And well, after Ally told us about your little crush on  _ my _ boyfriend, we knew you wouldn't say no. After all, we’ve all heard about what a little  _ whore _ you are.”

And Stiles? Stiles was still shaking his head. Because  _ no _ , no that was not true. He lost his virginity to Derek. Derek was the  _ only _ person he’s ever had sex with, hell the only person he’s ever even kissed! He wasn’t a whore, he wasn’t! But for some reason, he couldn’t just say that, couldn’t make the words come out. Hell, his mouth wasn’t even moving, just stuck hanging open as his eyes blinked away a burning heat. He was determined not to cry, not to show any more weakness that he already had. 

So, instead of crying like he wanted to he lifted his chin, took a deep breath. “Fuck  _ you _ .” He hissed out, hating himself for how his voice cracked. He didn’t stay after that, instead pushed his way through the crowd of students as he tried to get away. He wasn’t fast enough, still heard Derek laugh out a  _ “Been there and done that,’”  _ followed by Kate’s,  _ “And he’s not going back, sweetheart!” _

* * *

The rest of the day was more or less hell for Stiles. News had gotten around pretty fast, since,  _ High School _ . Apparently, his presence was in no way a deterrent for people to talk about him, since he heard more than he wanted to. He heard a few different stories, none of them in his favour. His favourite was that he was a crazy slut of had forced himself onto Derek at a party and was convinced that they were madly in love, and upon seeing Kate had tried to attack her in a fit of jealous rage.  _ How in the fuck _ someone heard something that far from the truth was a pure fucking mystery to Stiles.

So Stiles kept his head down, stayed quiet and spent his lunch out in his jeep, the dark shading on his back windows making it impossible for anyone to see him crying—though walking into fifth period with bright red, puffy eyes probably let everyone know how weak he was. 

But  _ no _ . No okay, he wasn’t weak. He wasn’t a whore, wasn’t just  _ something _ to use when someone wanted to  _ ‘keep their dick warm’ _ . No, Stiles was hot, okay. Sure, it wasn’t immediately obvious in his flannels and loose khakis, but now? Now he looked  _ good _ . He was in his tightest pair of jeans, black with ripped knees that hugged his ass like they were painted on while being strangely comfortable. His top was loose and cropped short, ending a few inches above his belly button and showing off the lines of his abdomen and the v of his hip, drawing more attention to his ass even as the extra short sleeves let the length of his arms stand out. It was a soft grey in colour, a black ridge around the neck, sleeves and bottom cutouts. 

Stiles was long lines and lean muscle, his cheekbones cutting high on his face without the distraction of his too large glasses. With his contacts in, the largeness of his eyes was brought to attention, his lashes fluttering long and dark against his face. His jaw was sharp, usually bundled up under too-big hoodies. 

Training with Deaton was intense, the man making him not only exercise his magic but both his mind and body as well. He was no stranger to running, in fact, he had run for three hours upon returning home from school, letting the pounding of his feet and the sounds of the forest lull him until he was calm enough that he was able to stop crying. 

Looking like the hot pieces of twink ass that he was, Stiles drove himself to the far side of town, bouncing his fingers along the wheel the entire time. He was excited, he was pumped up, he wanted to  _ move _ . He hadn’t been to the Jungle since before Derek, hadn’t been dancing in more than an entire month, and he was  _ ready _ . He missed it, missed the looseness of his body and missed the queens. Hell, the only reason he  _ owned _ a crop top was because Pink Diamond—or Luke—took him shopping after the first time they met. 

And dear god, hadn’t that been an experience. Luke was nearly six feet of pure fucking muscle. He was a  _ man _ , and Stiles had such a hard time connecting the large person in front of him with the flawless queen he knew and loved. Well, until he started talking. Luke was just as funny as Pink Diamond was, and that shopping trip had been one of the most fun times of Stiles’ high school experience. Plus, now he had three full drawers of sexy-clubbing-clothes. Clothes he hadn’t worn in a month!

Pulling up to the Jungle, Stiles has to stop himself from just running to the door. He made sure he locked his jeep, tucking his keys into their hiding place inside the tire rim. He walked slowly, breathing deeply and letting himself relax into his body. He had been coming to this particular club for nearly two years, ever since his sixteenth birthday when Scott got him a decent fake ID. 

At first, he was coming maybe once a month, but then he met the queens and got to meet a few of the bartenders and became friends with the staff. After a while he was coming at least once a weekend, and sometimes even to themed nights during the week.

A little while after he turned seventeen the owner all but cornered him, asking what the hell he thought he was doing drinking in his club, if this was some elaborate scheme of his fathers to shut him down. The minute Francis said the words  _ “You’re banned,” _ Stiles had started to cry, shaking his head and begging. The Jungle was his safe place. He was  _ happy _ here, was appreciated and had friends. He was seen here, was more than just a nobody in the halls. He had people who wanted to spend time with him, hell people who  _ did _ spend time with him. 

Francis had inevitably relented, saying Stiles could come and dance and hang out as long as he never drank, which wasn’t a problem for Stiles. He didn’t drink in the first place, not after watching what it had done to his dad. So Stiles continued going, getting more and more familiar with the regular patrons and becoming closer with the staff in no time. 

Apparently, nerdy and excited wasn’t a terrible trait to have. In fact, he bonded with several staff over a mutual love of Star Wars, and they had marathon nights once every couple months where the four of them (Stiles, two bartenders and a waitress) all met up and mostly talked and caught up, just with a background of star wars. 

So not coming for a month had been awful, but Stiles only ever came when his father worked the night shift and for the last four weeks Derek had always come over. Hell, Stiles had asked if they could go more than once, but Derek always just shut him up with a biting kiss. Stiles let out a breath, pushing those thoughts away as he scanned the line, eyes drifting over the collection of men. 

His body was already strumming with excitement, his spark humming under his skin alongside his emotions. He broke out into a grin upon seeing the bouncer. Johnny was a large,  _ large  _ man and incredibly physically intimidating. He was also a giant puppy who once let Stiles braid his hair one morning after the club closed. The man has also given Stiles countless piggyback rides because Johnny is  _ awesome _ .

Stiles bypassed the line, a smirk already firmly in place as he sauntered up to the man at the door, slipping in close and leaning up to press a kiss to the man's cheek. Johnny looked down, a huge smile overtaking his face when he noticed it was Stiles. He grabbed the boy in a hug, squeezing tight and lifting him off the floor in the process.

“Where have you been?” he demanded, face serious once Stiles was back on the ground. Stiles didn’t have an answer, his smirk falling and instead he just shrugged sadly, shuffling closer and tucking his face into Johnny's neck, sighing when the man wrapped him in another amazing hug. “Oh boy. Bad, huh?”

Stiles just nodded, letting himself calm in his friend's arms, ignoring the eyes he could already feel on him. “Okay little guy, you go in there and dance your little heart out until it’s no longer broken, yeah?” 

Stiles nodded again, stepping back but barking out a laugh when Johnny pushed Stiles into the club via a sharp slap to the ass. He glared back at the man, but a small, genuine smile was already making its way onto his face as he continued to make his way through the crowd of sweaty men piled around the bar. Stiles smile, waving at Mickey behind the bar and making his way into the crowd of people, stopping every now and again to greet familiar faces, all saying some variation of how they’re happy he was back and that they had missed him. 

It’s exactly what Stiles needed tonight. 

That and the feeling of bodies pressed against his own, the bass beating along with his heart, sharp under his skin. He let everything melt away, closing his eyes and letting his other senses come to the forefront. The air was sharp, sweat and alcohol the main features. He could almost taste the tension in the room, the sexuality rolling in waves around him, drowning him. He smiled then, once again letting the music take over, falling into the harsh beat as everything faded away slowly. It was a slow process, the outside world fading until it’s just him and his own body, nothing more.

He was infinite, living in his own pocket of forever as the music took him away. He rose up with it, crashing back down into his body as it rolled with those around him. His mind was quiet, his entirety focused on how he  _ feels _ . Laughter bubbled out of his throat, high and loud as he shouted his glee. This was his body and his song and his club. He existed only in that moment, nothing mattering beyond the moment as he continued to dance, slowly letting his eyes flutter open. 

He rolled his hips, moving closer to a boy probably only a few years older. The man was taller, shoulders firm but lacking in width. His eyes were clear green, though, and made up for his too-innocent-boy-next-door look. He was familiar, somewhere in the back of his mind, however Stiles was too endorphin high to place his face. 

The man smiled, placing his hands gently—too gently—on Stiles’ hips to sway with him. Stiles allowed it. The man  _ was _ pretty, albeit not Stiles type, which didn’t even matter. He wasn’t here for that, not really. Stiles was there to dance, to let go of his mind and exists solely in the roll of his hips.

Hands wrapped around Stiles’ waist from behind, shoving away the hands of the young man in front of him who looked over Stiles’ shoulder and immediately backed away. The hands laid flat on the exposed flesh of Stiles’ stomach, inching up even under his already high cropped shirt, his fingers digging into Stiles’ flesh. Stiles gets jerked backwards, colliding with a hard chest. The man must have been similarly heightened, if a bit taller but his shoulders were definitely wider where they bracket Stiles in, the surrounding arms tighter in their hold as this new man rolled his hips into Stiles’ ass. 

The boy just giggled, high and breathy as he ground backwards, relishing in the firm hold the man had on him, far too much enjoying that he couldn't get out. 

He didn’t feel trapped though. He knew that if he were in trouble, real trouble, his spark would be reacting, his magic sensing any harsh intentions the man may have had. His was confident in his magic, even when he was able to slip out of his mind and be nothing more than his own physicality, he was able to rely on it, was confident that his spark would keep him safe. He could feel it even now, after all, how it burned brightly from within his chest. It was a comforting warmth, second only to the heat along his back.

The man was warm where he was wrapped around Stiles, his hands all but burning Stiles skin. It was nice, though. Comforting in the way his fingers spanned the width of his body and held him firm. He submitted himself to it, letting his head fall back onto the man’s shoulder to expose his neck. The man growled, the noise of it rumbling along Stiles’ back. The man's—or wolf’s, really—fingers dug in just a little tighter, his hips rolling sharply forward as hot breath ghosted over his neck. The first kiss was soft, just a gentle press of the man's lips to his neck before he bit down, sucking hard on the skin and licking it over. He kept worrying at the same spot and Stiles could feel a hint of fang that excited him, getting him to arch his back and press his own ass firmly against the man. 

“Come home with me?” The man growled out, the rumble of the words pressed against Stiles’ chest as lips pressed against his neck. He heard the man breathe in right before he licked a long stripe along the back of Stiles’ neck, the man pressing his crotch in tighter against Stiles’ ass. 

Stiles wiggled in the hold, the  _ “No thank you” _ he was going to say dying in his throat as he got a good look at the man. He  _ was _ taller, Stiles was only eye level with the man's jaw—which for the record was sharp, a slight dusting of stubble along the skin. The neck though, Jesus _ fuck _ that neck because it was huge, fucking thick, and it alone was making Stiles’ knees weak. Which was fine, since the man, the wolf really, in front of him had two firm handfuls of his ass and was using his hold to grind Stiles’ erection into his own. 

What got Stiles to say  _ “Yes”, _ though, was the eyes. They’re a sharp, bright blue, dangerous in the all the best ways and when Stiles flashed his own white the man’s turn into a gorgeous yellow, more gold, dark in its intensity, near bordering an orange. 

Beta, but high ranking and strong.

“Oh dear  _ fuck _ ,” The man said on a growl, lowering his face back into Stiles’ neck and breathing, his next sentence smothered into his skin. “How did you get any  _ more _ perfect?”

Stiles laughed at that, wrapping his arms loosely around the man's neck as he fucking  _ lifted Stiles up _ and carried him out of the surge of bodies, his laughter devolving into bright giggles as he waved over the man's shoulder at Pink Diamond at the girls—the group of them cheering and hollering after him. The wolf finally let him down but didn’t move away, instead swinging an arm around Stiles’s neck and tucking him against his side, steering him towards the parking lot. 

“Is it okay if I just follow after you?” Stiles asked pointing at his own jeep. “I hate to enter a wolf’s den without a way out.”

“Oh, but you’d enter without any protection?” The man drawled, a smirk pulling at his lips even as he dragged into another lungful of Stiles’ scent.

Stiles just giggled, letting his eyes flash brighter than he had in the club, the white drowning out his iris’ completely, the glow lighting up the wolves face. “Who said I wasn’t protected?”

Peter sniffed the air, looking for any trace of alcohol or drugs in Stiles’ scent. There wasn't anything fresh, but, “You are sober, yes?”

Stiles stared at him for a moment, and then broke out into a grin. “Yep, one hundred percent consenting person! The smell is from my Adderall.”

“Oh darling, I cannot wait to have you underneath me.” 

* * *

Stiles rolled over before he was fully coherent, snuggling into the warmth that was now underneath him. He sighed contentedly, the movement bringing awareness to the soreness of his ass in the  _ best _ way. Last night had been wild, and Stiles couldn't find it in himself to be anything but pleased with how things turned out. He had followed the wolf—Peter, he was told—home, through the preserve and to a large house, the front lawn littered with cars. As big as the house was it wasn’t overly fancy, no gleaming chandeliers or priceless vases. Instead, the home was warm, the low lighting making it feel even cozier.

Peter had literally carried Stiles into the house, hoisting Stiles up by the back of his thighs and rumbling in delight when Stiles wrapped his legs around the man's waist. Stiles himself was more than into it, hell if manhandling wasn’t one of his kinks and Peter’s supernatural strength was  _ doing it _ for Stiles Junior. 

Peter had brought them into a basement, a large open expanse of a room that had a little kitchenette off to the left, a living space to the right and straight ahead a bedroom area. It was all open concept, the only thing that was closed off room appeared to be the bathroom, the door close to the bed. 

Stiles giggled when he was thrown onto the bed, laughing harder when Peter growled and ripped off his own shirt, going for Stiles’ with unsheathed claws. Stiles pushed back up, letting his spark flare and holding Peter still.  _ “This is my favourite shirt!” _ Stiles had declared, wiggling out of his clothes and standing to neatly fold them over the desk chair against the far wall. Peter had growled again, straining against the hold Stiles’ magic had on him as Stiles arranged himself on the bed, stretching out with his whole body. 

Peter’s order of  _ “C’mon baby boy, stop teasing Daddy.” _ had gotten Stiles all hot and bothered, and his concentration was shot, releasing Peter only to have the man all but jump on him. 

They had a very solid conversation before starting anything, both taking a moment to calm down so they could clearly discuss their options. Peter, being a werewolf, couldn’t contract or carry and diseases. Stiles knew that, knew that there was no fear in that case but wasn’t sure if he wanted to be  _ that _ intimate with the man. 

He and Derek had always used condoms, much to Derek’s insistence. At first, Stiles had thought that it was strange Derek’s wolf didn’t want to mark him, but  _ now _ it was beyond clear why that would be. So when Peter sheepishly admitted that he would rather go condom free, the sole reason that  _ he wanted to mark Stiles _ , the boy could hardly say no. It felt so good to be wanted, to be desired in such a way that even Peter’s wolf wanted evidence that Stiles was his, if even for the night. 

Stiles had been expecting the sex to be fast and hard after that but was not disappointed when Peter opened him up slow, teased his body with his finger and tongue before finally,  _ finally _ pushing his way in. At that point Stiles had been high with it, barely able to say anything other than a string of  _ “Daddy” _ and  _ “Please” _ and  _ “Fuck Me” _ . Peter, for his part, wasn’t doing much better, resorting to being essentially sub vocal after finally pushing in, sans condom. 

After Peter entered Stiles, the older man had reverted to growling, a constant rumbling of his chest that just made things better for Stiles. Not to mention the constant attention his neck and collarbones were getting. And Peter fucked  _ good _ , using his enhanced strength and stamina to his advantage in the best ways, making Stiles a sloppy mess under him. And when Peter finally came, growling into Stiles’ neck as he bit down, it pushed Stiles over the edge, causing him to black out for long enough for Peter to grab a washcloth and wipe him down. 

After they had both spent and finished, the growling became more of a content rumble in his chest, and Peter pulled Stiles tightly against him, holding him firmly in his arms and curling around him as the best big spoon Stiles had ever had the pleasure of cuddling with. It wasn’t long after that that Stiles had finally drifted off into sleep, his body warm and used, relaxing into the wolf's hold. 

When Stiles had woken up cold he had reached for the previous warmth, rolling right on top of Peter and settling himself over the man's chest who just brought his arms up to hug Stiles close. Stiles let out a breath, pressing a light kiss to the man's chest as he sighed in contentment. He couldn’t help but compare Peter to Derek. They were the only two people he had ever had sex with, after all. 

With Derek, it had always been fast, the other teen hardly taking the time to open Stiles up before thrusting in, sometimes making Stiles do it himself. After Derek came, he’d quickly bring Stiles off with his hand—if he hadn’t come already—and would wipe himself up then leave. He never stayed except that very last night, and even then they didn’t cuddle, Derek had just turned his back on Stiles and fallen asleep, only to fuck Stiles again in the morning before leaving. 

And that was it, really. Stiles probably should have known, really, how little he meant to Derek from the beginning. But he’d been foolish, he’d been stupid, really. He wasn’t naïve enough to think that sex had to mean something more, hell, he knew it  _ didn’t _ most of the time. People had casual sex  _ all the damn time _ and for some reason, Stiles forgot that. 

Yes, it was most likely because he had pre-established feelings for Derek, that he had a crush on the boy before anything happened. So he made something out of nothing, and Stiles couldn’t really say he was surprised with himself.  But whatever, enough of that. Stiles had to physically shake his head to stop thinking about it, the low growl that Peter was making helping to bring him back to the present. 

“Sweetheart, where is that pretty head of yours?” The man under him asked, arms winding themselves a little tighter over Stiles’ waist.

“N-nowhere,” Stiles lied, regretting it when Peter growled softly, no doubt hearing the lie. “Uh, I was just thinking about something that happened yesterday.”

“Well, whatever it was I’m sorry it happened. Would you like me to kill anyone? I am quite good at hiding bodies.”

Stiles laughed at that, a soft giggle escaping his lips, “How do you know it was something bad?”

“Your scent soured for a moment. I must say you smell much better when you’re laughing,” Peter told the boy, pressing a kiss to the spark’s head. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

“You sure you want to hear about my problems?” Stiles asked, leaning back a little to look at Peter’s face. The man had his eyes closed, his mouth open the slightest bit. His hair was messy, sticking up in odd places and his stubble was just a bit darker than the night before. He looked gorgeous, lax and calm and Stiles was a little overjoyed. He knew this man was a strong Beta, high up in pack rankings by his eyes alone, and to let someone, another supernatural at that, into his den was an honour. But for Peter to be this relaxed, this  _ open _ it meant that for some reason Peter and his wolf already trusted Stiles a great deal, and just the thought of that made him want to giggle in pleasure.  

“Darling boy,” Peter said softly, “I would love to hear anything you choose to tell me.” 

And that got him to giggle. Stiles buried his face in Peter’s chest, letting the noise fall past his lips, letting out a long breath when Peter placed another long kiss to his forehead. Stiles relaxed into Peter’s hold, shimming himself a little to get extra comfortable atop the older man, bringing both his hands up and settling them under his chin, giving him enough leverage to comfortably watch Peter’s face. 

“So, me and this guy had been sleeping together for like, a month I guess. A few times a week, and well, before it started I had a crush on him. And anyway, I convinced myself that even though we never talked, or did anything together, that even if he never answered my texts or even  _ looked _ at me in school, it meant something. Which yes, I know is stupid and naïve and I do  _ not _ think that sex is more than just sex, but I let my predisposed feelings get in the way.” Stiles took a deep breath to calm himself, letting Peter’s hold relax him.

“That doesn’t sound too bad, at least you were fucking him?”

“Oh it was fine. Until his girlfriend came back and publicly humiliated me and spread rumours through the entire school about me being a whore, and how I was crazy and pathetic. Oh, also, she had known the whole time that we were having sex. Like maybe I’m old school or something, but if I’m dating someone, I wouldn’t want them fucking other people.” Stiles huffed out a breath, anger twisting in his gut at the thought of both Kate and Derek. Fucking ass holes. 

“As  I said earlier, I am sorry that happened. I am surprised that his girlfriend was okay with that. It may be that I am rather possessive of things I consider mine, but I also could never let that happen.” Peter said, a little growl slipping through as he held Stiles tighter for a second. He opened one eye and looked at the boy, sighing to himself. “I’m happy you told me and am very much  _ not _ happy that happened to you.”

Stiles just shrugged, letting his head fall back onto Peter’s chest only to be disturbed by his text tone. He sighed, a long put upon thing and rolled off the man and fell to the floor, letting out a small  _ ‘ow’ _ and ignoring Peter’s laughter. The text was from his dad asking where he was, and he sent off a quick text, telling the man he would be at Scott’s for a few hours. Which,  _ wow _ , fuck Scott. Stiles couldn’t forget what Kate had said,  _ “After Ally told us about your little crush on my boyfriend” _ which if true, meant Scott, his best friend who he tells  _ everything _ to couldn’t keep a fucking secret. It also probably meant that Scott had been totally aware of Kate and Derek’s relationship and had  _ not once  _ said anything!

Stiles sighed again, finally looking at the time, “Jesus, it’s only seven thirty.”

“Are you kidding me!?” Peter shrieked, rolling over onto his front and shoving his face into his pillow. “Fuck that, I’m going back to bed.”

Stiles just laughed, wishing he could do the same but knowing he was already far too awake. “How about I go make us some coffee, yeah?”

“The kitchen is upstairs and to the left. If you see my family, ignore them, it’s what I do,” Peter mumbled, pulling the blanket up over his head as well. Stiles just laughed again, smiling a little too fondly at the man in the bed. He pulled on his jeans, looking around for his shirt. 

“Uh Peter, can I borrow a shirt?”

“I thought I didn’t rip it?”

“Well no, but I would rather not walk around your home in a crop top,” Stiles told him, listening as Peter grumbled something else. Stiles decided to take as a  _ “Sure, go ahead!” _ and grabbed one out of the dirty laundry. No, it was not weird. And okay, logically he  _ knew _ he would smell like Peter. The man had literally come inside him last night, and there was no way it had all came out yet, plus they’d been tangled together most of the night, sleeping in the same bed. 

He just really wanted to carry the man's scent, plus it looked soft! It was also clearly too large, hanging loosely off him in a ridiculous manner. Besides, the shirt (along with the necklace of hickeys he spotted in the reflection of his phone screen) was physical evidence of Peter on his body, something that  _ he _ could see. 

Stiles placed a kiss atop the bundle of blankets Peter was currently hiding in before pocketing his phone, plugging the older man’s in to charge on the nightstand. He heard a muffled  _ “Thank you” _ and smiled, already too charmed for his own good. He had been able to look around Peter’s place last night, get a good feel for his ‘apartment’ while they were discussing condoms but Stiles had yet to see the rest of the house. 

Stiles could tell that it was big from the outside but was still surprised when he finally left the basement. The doorway to the basement stairs was near the front door, just off to the left of it which meant that Peter could enter the main house and go down into his den without having to go through the rest of the home.

Stiles did make his way towards the kitchen, stopping to look into what appeared to be the family room. It was a huge area, with two large ‘L’ couches and a few love seats scattered around a television. From that and the number of cars that had been scattered around the front Stiles was beginning to have an idea of how  _ big _ Peter’s pack must be. Which alright, a little intimidating. 

Usually, Stiles would be averse to entering a pack den without having the express permission of the Alpha, especially since his spark was strong, and he would never want to come across as a threat. Hopefully being doused in Peter’s scent would save him from any potential mauling that might happen. 

With a sigh Stiles continued into the kitchen—hell he was already in the house, he might as well make himself coffee. He looked around for a moment, again a little blown away by the obvious money. He lived in a single income household, two stories, three bedrooms one and a half bath. It wasn’t fancy, wasn’t extravagant, but it  _ was _ home. It was just him and his dad, they didn't  _ need _ two stoves or a fridge as obnoxiously large as the one in this kitchen. It was insane, from the granite counters to the stainless steel appliances  _ everywhere _ . 

Another sigh fell from Stiles’ lips, already comparing himself to Peter. Clearly, the man was rich, or well his family at least was. Knowing he had the whole basement to himself just reaffirmed his position in the pack in Stiles’ opinion. Jesus, what would the wolf want with  _ Stiles _ . It wasn’t as though Stiles was expecting anything, he knew that he was most likely getting a one-night stand out of Peter, but he  _ wanted _ more. 

He could already see how easily they fit together, and something about the man made his magic hum in contentment, calm under his skin in a way it usually wasn’t. God, Stiles was hopeless. 

He pushed that all aside, instead heading to the coffee machine—a Keurig!  _ With _ a display of K-Cups beside it—and plopped it on, using his spark to conjure a mug instead of digging through the cabinets. He didn’t want to spread his scent any more than necessary but was equally worried what would happen if he contained it and then someone saw him. At least if someone came across him now they would be able to smell their pack member and hopefully realize Stiles was not invading their den.

“Who are  _ you _ ?” A high voice demanded. Stiles turned from the counter, having to look down at the little girl standing in the middle of the kitchen. She was probably as tall as his hip, her little fists balled up where they're both positioned on her hips, her feet shoulder-width apart. It was a steady stance, her shoulders drawn back and her spine straight, and it looked utterly ridiculous with the mess of hair that was falling to the right side of her head.

“I’m Stiles,” he said, squatting down at eye level, sticking his hand out. 

The little girl came closer, sniffing his outstretched hand with a grimace. “You smell like Peter.” 

“I do! You’ve got a very good nose, princess!” Stiles praised, smiling wide at the little girl. She was obviously young, probably seven or eight and absolutely adorable up close. Stiles actually had a brief moment of panic that Peter has a  _ fucking kid _ and didn’t tell Stiles.

“I’m not a princess,” The girl said, adopting her previous stance but this time with her lip pulling back in a snarl. “You shouldn’t smell like Uncle Peter.”

“Oh? And why is that, little lady?”  

“I am not  _ little _ ! And because  _ you  _ are _ not _ his _ favourite _ !”

“Why am I not his favourite, bug?” Stiles should stop with the endearments, he knew he should, but the little princess in front of him had still not given a name and Stiles was a little determined to find something she would allow.

“Well because _ I am _ Uncle Peter’s  _ favourite _ !” She drawled the word out, smiling proudly as if being her Uncle’s favourite was a grand prize that she won.

“Oh, so you’re my competition! Well, no wonder I’m not his favourite when I have  _ you _ to compete against.”

“That’s right.” The girl said, her tone entirely too condescending for a child. “I’m Cora and I  _ guess _ you can be Uncle Peter’s  _ second favourite _ .”

Stiles couldn't help the beaming smile that took over his face, not even when another woman walked into the room. She was tall, her back straight and her chin held high. Stiles recognized her immediately as the Alpha and had to physically stop himself from baring his neck to her. He has never met an Alpha that strong before, never met one whose Aura alone made Stiles want to submit. 

So instead he turned back to Cora, completely disregarding the woman in favour of answering the girl in front of him. “I would be honoured to be his second favourite, but only if you’re first.”

“Well  _ duh _ .” 

“Cora!” The lady chirped, shocking Cora so much she jumped into the air/ “What have we told you about sarcasm?”

“Not to use it,” Cora mumbled, fiddling with the hem of Stiles’ shirt from where he was still crouched down in front of her. 

“Very good.” The woman, probably Cora’s mother—so Peter’s sister/sister-in-law—said, turning a sharp eye to Stiles. “And who might you be,  _ young _ man?”

Stiles stood, smiling down at Cora before turning to her mother. “I’m Stiles Stilinski, I’m Peter’s fr-”

“He is mine, dear sister,” Peter drawled, strolling into the room in a worn pair of jeans and a soft looking sweater looking  _ too fucking good  _ for this time of morning. He strode right up to Stiles, stopping at Cora to run a hand over the top of the girls head, scenting. He walked up to Stiles, lifting him by the hips and sitting him onto the counter, Stiles’ squeak making Cora laugh. Peter just smiled, moving in between Stiles’ legs to plant his face into Stiles’ neck, breathing deeply. Since Peter seemed to have settled there, Stiles just sighed, baring his throat and receiving a pleased rumble, bringing one hand up to card through Peter’s hair. 

“Peter!” The woman cried, completely outraged. “Is he even legal?” 

“Of  _ course _ Talia!” Peter snapped, not moving his head but bringing his hands up to rest high on Stiles’ thighs.

“Uh, well,  _ almost _ ?” Stiles added, his voice high.

“Peter Alexander Hale!” The lady cried—yeah probably sister—flashing her eyes red before visibly cringing back. 

“Uh, I already know you guys are wolves.” Stiles said, meeting the Alpha’s eyes over Peter’s head and flashing his own white, pulling a giggle and  _ “Oh pretty!” _ from Cora. “And uh, I’ll be eighteen in a few months?”

“So you’re in high school?” Peter asked, leaning back to look up at Stiles, the counter reversing their height difference. Stiles just nodded, tensing a little when Peter laughed. “Oh well, at least you're graduating this year.”

“Er, no?” Stiles said, quickly explaining when Peter raised a brow. “I lost a year and was held back, so I’m actually only a Junior, but if I wanted to, I could gather enough credits to Graduate at the end of this year.”

“Hmm, you, my dear boy are  _ full _ of surprises,” Peter said with a wink, stepping back a little when Cora started to pull at his leg to pick her up. 

“Peter, I think you’re  _ guest _ should be leaving, don’t you?” Talia spit out the word, hardly looking at Stiles as if he was beneath her. Which, he really wasn’t. He was a powerful spark, and sure he was still unbonded, but he was  _ strong _ . He has already had offers put in with his mentor by other packs, packs that want him specifically as their emissary. But he didn’t say that, didn’t mention his power or even let it show beyond the quick flash of his eyes.

“Ah yes, Talia. A breakfast date sounds lovely, what do you think Stiles?” The man purred, leaning back to flash Stiles a smirk that made the boy blush.

“Date?”

“Of course, darling. You just keep getting better and better, you don’t think I’d let you go so easily?” 

“Date! Date! Date! I want to come  _ please  _ Uncle Peter!” Cora cried from where she was sitting on Peter’s hip. 

“You’ll have to ask Stiles, cub,” Peter said smoothly, and Stiles caught how Talia’s eyes flashed red at the endearment. 

“Uncle Stiles,” Both Stiles’ and Talia’s mouths dropped open at the name while Peter just smirked. “Can I come on the date?  _ Please _ ?”

“Of course, little moon,” Stiles said, quickly getting over his shock and sending the girl a smile.

Talia went to say something but Stiles heard a door open, a too familiar voice calling out a  _ “Mom, whose jeep is that?” _ . Stiles’ mouth fell open, his spark rising under his skin as his anger built within him. It was all he could feel at that moment, and he let the rest fall away around him.

He was distantly aware of Peter stepping off the side with Cora, shielding her from  _ him _ as his own body slid down from the counter. His hands curled into fists at his sides, and he knew that his eyes were blazing white, his skin glowing softly. His spark was close to the surface, fuelled by the raging storm of his emotions as he ground his teeth together. He has never seen himself like this, but Deaton once told him it looked as though he held the light of the moon under his skin, that his spark was like none other than he’d ever seen before.

Stiles tried to breathe in, tried to calm himself. He could hear Cora ask a question, could hear the worry in her voice but then Derek walked into the kitchen and it was over. His breath caught as he stumbled back into the counter, something akin to a whine escaping his throat even as he threw out his arm, his spark sending Derek flying into the opposite wall. He watched curiously as Derek slouched to the ground, his spark calming the slightest bit when the threat didn’t immediately stand back up, allowing him to breathe in and out as he gasped for air.

Peter came to stand in front of him, and the worry was evident in his voice as he called his name. “Stiles? Stiles!” 

“I—I’m okay,” He managed to say, aware of how the Talia and Derek had both shifted into their Beta form, both growling out loudly. If Stiles had to guess the only thing that kept Talia from lunging at him was the hold that Peter still had on Cora, who was clutching tightly to his sweater in turn. She looked scared, and he tried to calm enough to send her a small smile.

“What the  _ fuck _ Stiles!” Derek roared from where he was standing across the room, crouched low and looking like he was ready to pounce. 

And  _ no _ . He was not allowed to act like the hurt party here. Stiles hadn't done  _ anything _ ! He wasn’t the one that slept with Stiles only because he knew Stiles was already into him, not the one whose girlfriend humiliated him and lied. It was  _ Derek _ who was the one at fault! Stiles slipped around Peter, his eyes glowing once again, “Screw you! Screw you, you piece of freaking garbage!” Stiles shouted, glaring at the wolf but not moving, aware that Cora was still behind him. Peter grabbed hold of his bicep tightly, somehow still managing to position himself between him and the Alpha whose eyes were still growling. “Oh calm the heck downm” Stiles said as he turned to Talia, shoving his spark at her and forcing down her shift, watching as her eyes widened, and she shuffled back. 

“What the hell is going on here?” A man said. He looked a lot like Derek though older and taller—most likely his father. 

“Why don’t you ask Derek,” Peter hissed, his eyes glowing blue as he placed a confused Cora on the counter, turning towards Stiles and pulling the boy into his body. Stiles, if he had been thinking clearly enough to, would be incredibly impressed that Peter parsed out what was happening on his own, since Stiles hadn’t given the man any specifics earlier.

“I didn’t do anything!” Derek cried and Stiles shoved Peter off, his eyes flashing brightly as he turned back to Derek, his spark rolling hot under his skin.

“Oh really  _ Der-bear _ ?” Stiles spit, watching as Derek’s eyes flash yellow with his growl. “No, you’re right! You were just, what was it,  _ ‘keeping your cock warm’ _ ?” 

“I never said that!” Derek cried. 

Peter pulled Stiles closer to his body then, wrapping himself more firmly around the boy. “God, of course you’re related to him. My freaking luck.” 

“Sweetheart, I’d never do anything like that,” Peter said into his hair, and Stiles could do nothing but nod and shove his face firmer into the man's chest. He wasn’t worried about Derek anymore, or the other wolves. His spark was still humming loud under his skin, and he knew that it was wrapping itself protectively around himself and Peter, even slithering over and protecting Cora who was still on the counter. With his anger was gone and his spark cooled down, he just felt tired and exhausted. He was distantly aware of the fact that he was crying, but really couldn’t bring himself to care until he heard a thud.

Stiles watched as Cora—who just hopped off the counter—marched up to Derek, little eyes glowing bright and a scowl on her face. When she got to him she growled, bring her arm back and punching the older wolf in the gut. It must have been hard, since Derek actually pushed out a breath, doubling over slightly even though Cora was already marching back to Stiles and Peter, ignoring her mother's shout of surprise. 

She stopped in front of the spark, lifting her arms in the universal ‘pick me up’ manner and Stiles was hard-pressed to resist. So he didn’t, bending down and hefting her up, letting out a surprised noise when as soon as he set the girl on his hip, she grabbed his face in both of her tiny hands, shoving his cheeks together until he was forced to push out his lips. As soon as his lips were pursed she leaned in and smacked a loud kiss to his lips, leaning back with a very self-satisfied smirk.

“Do you feel better!? Uncle Peter  _ always  _ kisses my hurts to make me feel better!”

“Uh, oh, yes, thank you, Cora,” Stiles said as Cora wipes the stray tears off his face. 

“Come,” Peter said, firmly grabbing Stiles’ hand in his as he marched out of the room, growling low at Derek as he walked past. 

Derek didn’t do it back, and rather he bared his throat at the older and stronger pack member, whimpering slightly. Talia was apparently still too stunned to do anything, since she just stood there watching as Peter pulled Stiles and Cora out of the house, the older wolf only stopping long enough to grab his keys and a pair of shoes for each of the three.

“Derek,” his father said, his voice echoing in the silent room, “what did you  _ do _ ?”

**Author's Note:**

> Please note, I'm not continuing this. However, if you want to see more of this universe, check out the collection this work belongs to! 
> 
> comments and kudos are much appreciated!  
> [my dreamwidth](https://lavenderlotion.dreamwidth.org/) and my [my tumblr](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [What You're Worth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17864816) by [thegirlwhoknits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwhoknits/pseuds/thegirlwhoknits)




End file.
